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Chapter 9
We Finally Reach the Underworld
Volume 1: The Lightning Thief
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On Valencia Boulevard, DOA Recording Studios stood tucked between two unsuspecting buildings. Grover said that stenciled on the glass doors was the warning: NO SOLICITORS. NO LOITERING. NO LIVING. It seemed like the right place.
Despite being almost midnight, the lobby was full of people. Overly crowded. Pat scrunched up his nose and held his walking stick tighter.
Before entering, Percy turned to the four of them and said, "Okay. You remember the plan."
"The plan." Grover gulped. "Yeah. I love the plan."
Annabeth said, "What happens if the plan doesn't work?"
"Don't think negative." Percy deflected the worry.
"Right," she said. "We're entering the Land of the Dead, and I shouldn't think negative." When Percy went quiet, Annabeth grabbed his shoulder and said, "I'm sorry, Percy. You're right, we'll make it. It'll be fine."
She gave Pallas a nudge. It sounded like he was smiling, but Pat knew it must have looked unnatural and forced. "We did not come this far for nothing, Percy." He always said Percy like merci. Maybe they would need Lord Hades' mercy soon.
"Oh, right!" Grover chimed in. "We got this far. We'll find the master bolt and save your mom. No problem."
Percy slipped his five Santa Monica pearls in his pocket and gave me all a reassuring smile. "Let's whup some Underworld butt."
They walked inside the DOA lobby. Muzak played softly on hidden speakers. There were people sitting on couches, people standing up, people staring out the windows or waiting for the elevator. Nobody moved, or talked, or did much of anything.
The security guard's desk was a raised podium, so they had to look up at him. Pat could tell he was wearing a nice suit. Bewildered, Percy blurted, "Your name is Chiron?"
He leaned across the desk. His smile sounded sweet and cold—threatening.
"What a precious young lad." He had a strange accent—British, maybe, but also as if he had learned English as a second language. "Tell me, mate, do I look like a centaur?"
"N-no."
"Sir," he added smoothly.
"Sir," Percy said.
He pinched a name tag on his suit, "Can you read this, mate? It says C-H- A-R-O-N. Say it with me: CARE-ON."
"Charon." Percy repeated.
"Amazing!" Charon said, "Now: Mr. Charon."
"Mr. Charon," Percy said.
"Well done." He sat back. "I hate being confused with that old horse-man. And now, how may I help you little dead ones?"
"We want to go to the Underworld," Annabeth said.
Charon's mouth twitched. "Well, that's refreshing."
"It is?" she asked.
"Straightforward and honest. No screaming. No 'There must be a mistake, Mr. Charon.'" He looked them over. "How did you die, then?"
"Oh," Grover said. "Um...drowned...in the bathtub."
"All five of you?" Charon asked.
They nodded.
YOU ARE READING
Prophesied Powder, PJO
Fanfiction(Atropos cuts the threads of Human Fate.) Pat was destined for something great. Apollo himself had said it. The only issue is, no one knows what he's meant to do or how he's involved in the so-called Great Prophecy. Percy is the only son of Posideon...
